


Hodge-Podge Hell

by layla_aaron



Series: Fanfic 50 - Table 10 [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Co-workers, Community: fanfic50, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/layla_aaron/pseuds/layla_aaron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fanfic50 Table 10, Prompt 010 - Hell - Garcia finds herself in hell, unable to receive comfort from the touch of Hotch's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hodge-Podge Hell

**Author's Note:**

> fanfic50 Table 10, Prompt 010 - Hell
> 
> Inspired by Season 2, "The Big Game" (ep 14) and "Revelations" (ep 15)
> 
>  **Author’s Disclaimer:** These characters are the intellectual copyrighted property of The Mark Gordon Company in association with CBS Television Studios and ABC Studios. This is purely for enjoyment and entertainment. This is not meant to infringe on the copyright in any way.

He brought me here, to this house that fills me with revulsion just upon sight. I know he has a reason, but this place is my version of hell, plain and simple. I stare at the hodge-podge system and wonder how I will be able to help. I understand he has a good reason for bringing me here, but that doesn't mean I want to be here. Monitors everywhere, a system that seems to have been put together by a high school geek with limited funds, and file names that send a shiver down my spine. I'm trapped in the middle of nowhere, in a rundown, ramshackle house full of clutter. I'm surrounded by technology, but it brings me no solace.

As I sift through the files on this system, I feel his eyes on me. Not constantly, but the occasional stop in the doorway to make sure I'm okay. He knows the images upset me, and yet he knows he had to bring me here to help. When the images of Reid flash on the screen, I feel my heart leap in my chest. I need to feel the touch of his hand, but Hotch is in the other room. Comfort from him is out of the question, making this house even more hellish. 

After the wheels have touched down in Quantico and we're all safely in the building, he sends me a text with an offer to take me home. I decide to take him up on that offer, knowing I'll possibly be waiting a few hours for him to finalize his reports. Surrounded by my own elaborate system, I feel calmer, more at ease. I can wait, because the sensations of his arms around me, the touch of his hands on my body, the feel of his mouth pressed to mine – all of these are worth the wait. I give my keyboard a long, lingering caress, imagining that it is the taut muscles of Hotch's abdomen.


End file.
